The Counting Sheep Chapters
by Laughing-Rabbit96
Summary: FIRST PERSON PERSPECTIVE! The cast of Hetalia is going to help you fall asleep by- you guessed it- counting sheep for you. Each character's scenario is different and it's just you and them. Sleep tight, kiddos.
1. America the Brave

**::America::**

Huddling under your covers, you hugged your knees to your chest, trying your best to suppress the sobs welling up from within. Your actions wouldn't suffice, though, for the tears and cries echoed in the pitch-black room, empty except for yourself.

Your phone suddenly rang, causing a glass-shattering scream to leave your throat. Once you realized what it was, your eyes widened.

_Don't pick up the phone! Don't pick it up! They can hear you! Nooooo!_

The phone stopped ringing, ending with a beep that told you that you had one missed call and one new voicemail.

_Do I dare?_

Shakily taking the phone in your hand, you checked the missed call to see who it was.

"It's j-just Alfred." You sighed out of relief, typing your password to hear the voicemail he had left.

"__! I need t-to know if you're d-doing okay, okay? Like, n-now, please! Hurry up and c-call me back, _!_" *CLICK*

What was he worrying about? You decided that, even though it was three in the morning, you had to call him back or else he wouldn't leave you alone and then he'd probably think you were ignoring him and that you hated him.

*Ring Ring Ri-*

"__! I-Is that you?_" you heard him ask in a shaky, yet loud voice.

"Yeah… Why did you call?"

"_Are you okay, _?_"

"Uh-huh."

"_Can you sleep?_"

"Well… uh…" You shifted uneasily, knowing what he would say if you couldn't.

"_I'm coming over right now, so don't leave!_"

"Why would I leave? It's three AM and, anyways, I really don't think-"

"_Just stay home!_" *CLICK* *Beep Beep Beep*

You sighed, understanding his motive. That had to have been the scariest horror movie you'd ever seen, and you didn't usually mind them! Alfred had invited himself over, bringing the movie while you supplied the location and food- popcorn and soda, of course. Once he had arrived, the living room was all set up and you quickly went around shutting off all of the lights as he prepared the DVD. The living room had been glowing an eerily light blue, like stained moonlight, as the two of you sat on the couch, munching and sipping the refreshments with wide eyes. Occasionally, one of you would shout, "NO! DON'T! NO! BAD IDEA! BAD IDEA! YOU'RE GONNA DIEEEE!"

In certain graphic scenes, Alfred would cover your eyes and you his, helping each other to ease the tension with a small fit of giggles before the next super-scary part came on. Screaming had hoarsened both of your voices, but when the movie had finally finished, your voices had returned, fortunately. The two of you zipped around your house, flicking on every light and making sure there weren't any monsters hiding in a closet or something. Popcorn had to be picked up and soda stains removed, since, between the two of you, you had managed to paint the floor around the sofa with flying food being thrown at those jump-outa-your-skin-moments.

You finally convinced Alfred to go home and get some sleep, watching his terrified face zoom away from your driveway.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, breaking your train of thought and bringing you back to the present. Alfred was waiting at the door when you answered, baseball bat hidden behind your back for extra protection- just in case.

"Hey," you mumbled, letting him in and slamming the door behind him, making sure to get ALL of the locks locked.

"I come all the way here to save you and all I get is a 'Hey…'? What's with that?" he joked, crushing you in a hug.

"Alfred…" You put the baseball bat back down, your shoulders slumping.

"Now, WHERE'S THE MONSTER?" he shouted, fake-karate pose in action.

"What monster?"

"The one from the _movie_, _! C'mon, you gotta keep up with me, here, _."

You grunted, rubbing your eyes. "There is no monster, Al."

"Whaaat? Why didn't you tell me before, then?" He pouted, sticking his hands in his large jacket pockets. He must've touched something, because his eyes widened and his hand came back out, holding a wrapped-up thing. Alfred looked at it and looked at you, asking, "Hey, you want some?"

"No, thanks."

"Aw, come on! Burgers always help! …No? OKAY, THEN! I GUESS _I'LL_ HAVE TO EAT IT! HAHAHA!" He peeled back the wax paper and chomped down, taking massive bites until it was all gone.

"Ahh…" he sighed contently, patting his stomach. "Now," he said matter-of-factly, "What should I do to help you fall asleep?"

"Al, come on…"

"You said you couldn't sleep, so _I'm_ here to save the day- or night, I guess. C'mon, what can I do? Anything you have in mind?"

You thought for a moment before mumbling, "Count sheep? It probably won't work, but it's worth a shot."

"OKAY! _I did this for Arthur the other day, but that just got him all angry and embarrassed…_ BUT I'M A HERO, AND HEROES HELP THE NEEDY! Now get in bed!" He walked you over to your bed, making sure you were all tucked in. "Do you want the light on, because I know that I fall asleep faster when it's dark… _But then the monsters will come, so never mind!_"

You pulled the covers to your chin, waiting for him to shut up and start counting.

"Ready?"

You nodded.

"Here we go! One sheep! Two sheep! Three sheep! Four sheep! Five sheep! Six sheep!" He was yelling, and on top of that , he was saying them like he was rapping. This wasn't going to help at all. "Seven sheep! Eight sheep! Nine sheep! TEN SHEEP!"

He laughed, looking at you with his wide-grinned face. "HOW WAS THAT? You're already… still awake. Oh, well! That was only ten sheep, so I'll keep going and then you'll fall asleep! WOO~"

"Alfred, hate you tell ya this, but your counting sucks." You just stared at him, slightly irritated.

"Whaaat? There's no way! Well… Arthur said the same thing, now that you mention it. You guys are hopeless… I don't wanna, but.. I'll do it! For you!"

He scooched himself closer to you, making sure that, if he was to count quietly, you'd still be able to hear him. His voice became softer and he counted a bit slower as he continued.

"Eleven sheep. Twelve sheep. Thirteen sheep. Fourteen sheep. Fifteen sheep. Sixteen sheep. Seventeen sheep. Eighteen sheep. Nineteen sheep. Twenty sheep."

You yawned, slightly awed at how quickly the process was working.

Alfred heard and stopped for a moment, asking, "You're… You aren't asleep yet? My counting's better, so you should be in dreamland right now. I guess counting ice cream & hamburgers would be more fun, huh… Ah… But when I try counting my special way, like I do it at home, you wouldn't be able to sleep even if I count ice cream…"

Alfred noticed you giving him that look- that 'Shut. Up.' Look- and laughed. "I'm not leaving you or anything, silly! I just have to make sure my counting stays… calm and… more to your taste, y'know?"

You shifted, the covers slipping off of your shoulders. Alfred hurriedly picked it up in his hands and tucked you in again, saying, "You have to stay covered or you'll be too cold! There. Good?"

"Uh-huh."

"OKAY~ I'll keep counting! Twenty-one sheep. Twenty-two sheep. Twenty-three sheep. Twenty-four sheep. Twenty-five sheep. Twenty-six sheep. Twenty-seven sheep. Twenty-eight sheep. Twenty-nine sheep. Thirty sheep. Oh?"

Your eyelids had begun to droop, a clear sign that his job was working. "Did you count sheep for yourself when you were little?" you asked quietly, curiously peering up at him.

"Me? I guess so. It worked most of the time… Man, I've been talking for most of this time, now. Sorry 'bout that. Listening to someone else count usually turns out better, though… and that's why I'm helping you! Hey, don't distract me like that! I'm gonna finish this!

Thirty-one sheep… Thirty-two sheep… Thirty-three sheep… Thirty-four sheep… Thirty-five sheep… Thirty-six sheep… Thirty-seven sheep… Thirty-eight sheep… Thirty-nine sheep… _Forty sheep… Forty-one sheep… Forty-two sheep… Forty-three sheep… Forty-four sheep… Forty-five sheep… Forty-six sheep… Forty-seven sheep… Forty-eight sheep… Forty-nine sheep... Fifty sheeeep... Done." _

Alfred smiled to himself at his great accomplishment. He gently got off of the bed, whispering to you as you slept, _"Heh. You finally fell asleep. The monster never got us, did he? There isn't _anything_ the hero can't do! If you need me to do this again, you just go on and ask, 'cause I'll do it! That's what heroes do! So, yeah- don't worry about it if you need me again, because your hero will always be there for ya, okay? Hm."_

He silently made his way to your door, flicking your lamp off in the process. Turning back to you before leaving your room, he whispered, _"Goodnight, _~"_

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

**This is the first in a series I'm doing known as the Counting Sheep Chapters. If you guys haven't listened to the Counting Sheep CDs released with the other Hetalia drama CDs, you won't see a direct correlation. I pretty much took the translated… lyrics (?) and made them into stories that people can relate to… I think. **

**In the actual CDs, it's only the characters talking and on each CD, 2 of the tracks are where one of them is helping you fall asleep by counting sheep. There are pauses of silence where you'd 'say something' and then they keep talking with their response. (That's why there isn't a lot of 'you' saying anything.) It's kind of amazing~ **

**Each country will count in their own language (FUN!) and if it's a language like Russian, Chinese, or Japanese, I shall transliterate it for you~**

**Human names are used, and if you don't know them and need a reference, just check my profile. I do say the country name at the top and the human name throughout, so I don't think you'll need it, but just so you know…**

**America was first, since you'd be able to understand what he was doing and therefore what everyone else WILL be doing. Capische? Cool beans.**

**If you want the FOR RIZZLE lyric-things, PM me, since I had to alter them for the stories just a bit. You can also PM me to get the link for ALL Hetalia music (not by me, of course) and CDs, including this series. Also, there were only a set number of these (2 on each disc X 7 discs = 14 characters/chapters) that came out, so I dunno if I'll make ones for others or not. I want to, but we'll see.**

**AND IF ANYONE OUT THERE HAS SUGGESTIONS FOR SCENARIOS AND WHATNOT, TELLLLL ME, PLEASE. I'm horrible at brainstorming these things…**


	2. Russia the Noble

**::Russia::**

You tugged up on your scarf AGAIN, hoping to keep it up for good this time. Your eyes stung and your nose was _freezing_, especially when you sniffled in the bitter, crisp air as it swirled around you, taking snowflakes for a ride.

You crunched your way through the foot-and-a-half deep snow, thanking yourself that you had remembered to wear your boots with extra-tough grips on the bottom.

'_When I finally meet up with Ivan, I'm gonna kill him,'_ you thought with a grimace, making your way down the street with your back to the icy wind.

**Four Days Prior**

"You want to WHAT?" you asked again, making sure you had heard correctly.

He nodded as he repeated, "I want to take you to see my favoreete place een de whole wide world: Sahnkt Pyayterboorg."

With your head in your palms, you mumbled, "What's that? Some kind of demon-infested hotel? No thanks."

He chuckled, patting your head. "Nyet, silly goose. Sahnkt Pyayterboorg ees… ah, how do you say… Ah! Eet's 'Saint Petersburg' een Eengleesh. You hev heard of dees, I am sure of eet. You hev, da?"

_Oh…_

"Yeah, actually," you replied, looking at his grinning face.

"Yayee~! Den we go to Sahnkt Pyayterboorg een chetirye (four) days, da?" Ivan asked, his violet eyes brimming with joy. He was so excited that he even began bouncing on his heels.

You couldn't resist the child-like guy, so you chuckled. "That'd be great. Are we going to fly to get there?"

"Eef you want to, eet can be arranged."

"I've never been on a plane before, let alone one going to _Russia_, of all places, so can we? Please?" Your smile widened, showing off your teeth, as you pleaded, standing on your tip-toes in an attempt to meet his eye level. (It didn't work.)

"Da! We weell fly to Raseeya, my home, and I weell show you Sahnkt Pyayterboorg and tell you why I love eet so much, but not unteel den, and- Oh, ya tahk vzvolnavahn! I'm so very excited now, _! Spaseeba~"

"What does sp-" A light kiss was placed on your cheek before Ivan trotted off, singing to himself in Russian.

**Now**

As previously stated, you wanted to kill Ivan. _Violently._

Why, of all places, did he want to come to some ratty street in the middle of winter when the temperature was in single digits? _Why?_

You huffed, shoving your hands inside your pockets after adjusting your scarf and earmuffs again, not wanting to die of frost bite before you actually met Ivan.

_If I did, though, it'd be all his fault. Where IS he, anyway? Stupid Ivan. Stupid winter. Stupid Russia. GRAH, I _hate_ this place! Why would you want to-_

Your thoughts were interrupted by a certain something in front of you. Your jaw crashed to the ground, spraying up fountains of snowflakes.

There, _right _in front of you, was the Winter Palace. THE Winter Palace that housed the royal family of Romanovs. THE Winter Palace that was plated with gold and white paint. THE Winter Palace that watched its occupants celebrate their monarchy with a grand ball or festival. THE Winter Palace that was ripped to shreds when the Bolsheviks revolted against the Romanovs in 1917, killing the entire royal family, except, supposedly, for one of King Nicholas I's daughters, Anastasia.

That Winter Palace.

You remembered to breathe, gasping and clutching your jacket where your lungs were. With wide eyes full of awe that started stinging with the onset of tears, you smiled to yourself, sniffling in the cold wind.

"Ees eet not beauteeful…?" a voice asked quietly from beside you.

You jumped at the sound, unaware that there had been someone next to you. You quickly picked your jaw back up from off of the ground and dusted the snow off, clicking it back into place.

"I-… Hi, Ivan!" you spluttered out, rubbing your jawline with a twinge of embarrassment.

He grinned back at you, the childish demeanor shining through his face. His long coat swirled and billowed in the wind, making him look a bit majestic as he stood with the palace behind him. "What do you theenk of eet?" he asked, turning back to face you.

"I… I don't think I could ever say just how much this means to me, Ivan. It's beautiful. Thank you." You looked up at him with a gentle smile, his light hair swishing around his face.

"Ahaha~ Anytheeng for leelte Anastasia. Oh!" He blinked in surprise at the words he had just spoken. "I… um…"

You interrupted his awkward moment by tugging on his sleeve and wondering, "Can we go inside? It's a museum now, right?"

"Da, eet ees. Would you like to do dat?"

"Yeah!" A chance like this? It could only come up once in a lifetime!

"Come, den. I weell show you what eet means to be part of Rooskee (Russian) heestory."

Through the gold-tipped iron gates of Imperial Russia's past you went, and with each second you tried to prepare yourself for whatever you would see.

**Five Hours Later**

"OH MY GOSH THAT WAS THE COOLEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN AND WE ONLY GOT THROUGH, LIKE, AN EIGHTH OF IT AND I REALLY SHOULDN'T HAVE GOTTEN THAT COFFEE, EVEN THOUGH IT WAS COLD OUTSIDE COMING HERE, AND THAT COFFEE WAS SO GOOOOD! AHAHAHAHA~!"

"_, _... ahaha… please calm down," Ivan said to you, putting his massive hand on your shoulder.

"THERE'S NO FREAKING WAY I'M GETTIN' TO SLEEP NOW, BUDDY!" you yelled, getting up and staring him in the face.

"_. Here, let me _help_ you fall asleep, da?" Ivan asked with a cute grin, taking your wrists captive.

"H-Hey!" You tried yanking them back, but to no avail.

"Ahaha~ Do not worry. Besides, I do not see _why_ you cannot sleep- you hev warm place to sleep, food een your tummy, and someone here to keep you company. If dat ees all, den dere ees no reason for you to be awake."

"Well…"

"Oh! Maybe you theenk I cannot put you to sleep by… counteeng sheep? Da, eet weell do. Of course I can make you sleep with leettle sheepies AND, eef I cannot, den… _kol kol kol kol kol_…"

"What? I… _whoa_…" Your sugar crash suddenly hit, causing you to blink a few times and dizzily mosey over to the bed.

"Dat's right. Here you go," Ivan offered, pulling back the covers and allowing you to crawl underneath them. He sat next to you after shutting off the lamp in the corner so that the only light was coming from the night light in the bathroom.

"Ready?" he questioned, watching you with curious violet eyes.

You nodded sleepily.

"Harasho (Good). Adna ovtsa~ Dvoohk ovyets~ Tree ovtsih~ Chetirye ovtsih~ Pyat ovyets~ Shest ovyets~ Syem ovyets~ Vosyem ovyets~ Dyevyat ovyets~ Dyesyat ovyets~"

He shifted, frowning slightly when he noticed that you weren't asleep yet. "Hm… I thought you would be asleep by now, but… Do you know what ees eenteresteeng? Dere are so many sheep all over de place… like here een Raseeya… and een Eengland… Funny leetle creatures, sheep…"

You slowly blinked at him.

"Ah, anyways… I weell keep goeeng. Shut de eyes."

As you closed your eyelids again, he continued. "Adeenadsat ovyets. Dvehnadsat ovyets. Treenadsat ovyets. Chetirnadsat ovyets. Pyantnadsat ovyets. Shestnadsat ovyets. Syemnadsat ovyets. Vosyemnadsat ovyets. Dyevyatnadsat ovyets. Dvadsat ovyets."

His face came a few inches closer with squinted eyes as he quietly wondered, "Ah? Ees eet posseeble dat you are asleep already? I was not feeneeshed, but…"

"Mm… I'm not asleep yet," you drowsily answered, rubbing your eyes.

He blinked at you with raised eyebrows. "Eh? Ahaha~ Hey, you know, eef you were to sleep at my place, I would count sheepies for you every day of de week. I do love dose leetle sheepies… so soft and fluffy… and vulnerable…" he trailed off, looking away from you.

"Uh-huh… Keep going…" you managed to say with a yawn in your mouth.

Ivan continued rambling as if you hadn't even spoken. "Well, eet ees not like eet would _keel _you to come see de sheepies being counted at my house… seence everyone weell become one weeth Mother Russia anyway, right?" He looked at you, grinning.

"No."

He sighed. "I see… Well, eet was worth a shot. I guess I weell keep goeeng, da?"

"M-hm…" You adjusted yourself so that you were laying in a more comfortable position and tugged the sheets up, taking in a deep breath.

"Dvadsat adeen ovyets. Dvadsat dva ovyets. Dvadsat tree ovyets. Dvadsat chetirye ovyets. Dvadsat pyat ovyets. Dvadsat shest ovyets. Dvadsat syem ovyets. Dvadsat vosyem ovyets. Dvadsat dyevyat ovyets. Treedsat ovyets."

You had just begun to nod off when he stopped, so the absence of sheep counting spurred you from your almost-slumber.

"Steel not sleepeeng… Ah, haha, dat's right. Eef you _do_ come to my house to play, I can make really good food for you, like borscht and pelmeni, and, even dough eet ees holadna (cold), we can bundle up to keep warm. Leeveeng een Raseeya ees very nice to- Oh? Did you… You are not quite out yet, so… ten more or so should do eet, da?"

Stubborn droopy eyelids finally won, leaving you defenseless against the oncoming sleep. Ivan's quiet, gentle counting was easy on the ears, to say the least, and it wouldn't be long before dreams soon filled your head.

"Treedsat adna ovtsa… Treedsat dve ovtsih… Treedsat tree ovtsih… Treedsat chetirye ovtsih… Treedsat pyat ovyets… Treedsat shest ovyets… Treedsat syem ovyets… Treedsat vosyem ovyets… Treedsat dyevyat ovyets… Sorahk ovyets… _Sorahk adna ovtsa…_ _Sorahk dve ovtsih…_ _Sorahk tree ovtsih…_ _Sorahk chetirye ovtsih…_ _Sorahk pyat ovyets…_ _Sorahk shest ovyets…_ _Sorahk syem ovyets…_ _Sorahk vosyem ovyets…_ _Sorahk dyevyat ovyets…Pyatdyesyat ovyets._"

Ivan chuckled to himself. _"H-hm… You are finally sleepeeng. You look so very… peaceful, _."_

He covered his mouth as he yawned, hoping the sound wouldn't wake you. His violet eyes searched your face as he finished with, _"Eet ees late, so I must be getteeng de sleep, too. Spakoynoy nochi, _~"_

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

**Man, I dunno about you readers, but I get so sleepy just **_**writing **_**these…**


	3. Spain the Amiable

**::Spain::**

*SPLAT!*

"Haha! Yesssss! First shot: bull's-eye!" You pumped your fist, a wide grin of triumph spread across your face. Ducking back down, you hid, creeping around like a spy with your "fake gun" loaded. Loaded with a piece of pizza at the moment, in fact. That "fake gun" saved your life! How many times had you nailed people in the face moments before they would have done the same to you? Too many!

Okay… So the fake gun was just your hand… but it counted!

"TIME OUT!" the 'referee' called, making a whistle noise with his mouth since a whistle was nowhere to be found. "TEN MINUTE BREAK!"

"Aw… Just when I was getting even better at my aim, too…" you pouted, sighing. "That's okay, though. I did woop some butt just now…!" You squeezed your eyes shut in heroic laughter, only moments before a slimy object was thrown at your face.

"AH!" you gasped, wiping your face off with a brush of your arm and blinking the pinkish goo away from your eyes. A taste of overripe nastiness was floating around in your mouth, making you gag and spit it out in a hurry.

"WHO DID THAT? IT'S A TIME OUT!" you hollered, your head whipping around, sending particles of the goo flying.

"Ah… Lo siento!" a voice called from a short distance away. Though "sorry" was spoken, you could hear the amused tone in the voice, since you knew it all too well.

"Antonio," you stated, your eye twitching with irritation and your voice flat.

"Hola, _~!" he cheerfully greeted you, walking up and looking down to where you were still sitting, his jade eyes shining. "Need help up?" he asked innocently.

You glared at him, unamused, and slowly held out your hand.

He smiled widely and held out a hand as you checked to make sure your shoes had nothing on them to make you slip when you stood up. You took his hand, checking your other shoe and not looking at him.

*squishhh…*

Antonio couldn't contain his laughter. It all came out in one burst followed by good, hearty laughing from the belly. He laughed until small streaks of tears began to make their way down the sides of his face. He laughed until he was clutching his stomach and had to sit down. He laughed until his breathing came in short little gasps of air. He laughed until his cheeks and entire face ached.

Why?

Well, one look at your hand gave you the answer. There, splattered across your entire palm and in between your fingers, was the remnants of a tomato. A big, fat, juicy, sticky tomato.

"You did not just…" you quietly said in heated disbelief, going back and forth between shooting daggers at Antonio and deciding how to get the grossness off.

"I… I _did_!" he gasped back, still laughing.

"Then it was you that threw the other tomato at me earlier and hit me in the face!" You were fuming, but at the same time, you were trying your best to be sneaky. You wanted revenge.

All he could seem to do was nod, rocking back and forth in his seat with a huge smile.

"You even got it in my hair, Antonio! That is so not cool!"

He didn't seem to care.

"Ugh… Fine, whatever." It wasn't worth the energy to yell at him when it really didn't matter anyway. You'd get your revenge. Soon enough.

"FIVE MINUTES!" the ref called, relaxing in the only chair in the cafeteria that didn't seem to be covered in bits of food.

"Could you at least show me where I can wash it off?" you asked the Spaniard with your clean hand on your hip.

"Ahh…hahahaaah~… Of course I can," he said with a my-laughing-fit-is-over-now-and-I-won't-do-anythin g-else grin, standing up.

"Good." You followed him to the bathrooms, where he waited outside and you promptly cleaned up.

Looking at your now clean self in the mirror, you smirked and chuckled demonically to yourself. "It's almost time…~"

Back out you came. "Ready for more of this fight?" Antonio asked, grabbing your hand and guiding you back to the cafeteria, where the other players had started to come back for the second half.

"Yeah…" you said quietly, hiding the chuckle under your breath.

"I really am sorry about hitting you in your lindo little face, though, _. That wasn't intentional at all," Antonio apologized like he really did mean it. "I actually mistook you for that blonde guy that was taking out everybody else like…a machine gun… The guy that kept throwing the potatoes…y'know?"

He looked at you as your eyes widened in disbelief. "What…? I don't even look like-" You stopped yourself and sighed, again thinking your actions to be futile. "Well… It's okay. I forgive you, since it was an accident."

"Yay~! Hug?" he offered, smiling like a happy-go-lucky child and holding his arms out.

"Sure," you said with a gentle grin, sneakily pulling something out of your hoodie pocket as he pulled you into a hug. _3… 2… 1… Now!_

*squiiiiiish!*

You smiled in evil contentment, your revenge finally complete. You rubbed your hand around, making sure the banana would stay in his dark curly locks for a good while.

His wide eyes amused you so. "I… I wasn't…" he started, staring at you incredulously.

"Expecting that~?" you said with a satisfied smirk, removing your hand and bringing your arm back down.

"Not at a-"

"EVERYONE TO THEIR PLACES! THE SECOND HALF OF THIS FOOD FIGHT SHALL COMMENCE NOW! READYYYY…? GOOOOO!" the referee called out, making his whistle noise again and stepping out of the way.

Food was thrown every which way again as kids ducked, hid, and attacked. Winning was of every importance.

You quickly glanced at Antonio and smeared the remaining banana on your hand onto his face, laughing and running away fearlessly into the battle. A quick glance back gave you a few vital seconds to get your face out of the way of a flying tomato, but, in doing so, you tripped.

* * *

><p>Well…that could have ended better.<p>

Your team didn't even win.

In all totality, the injuries added up to a broken leg, four fractures, bountiful bruises, bumps, and toe-stubs, two idiots running smack into each other because they were looking opposite directions, an eye infection, a blueberry up a nose, three rushes to the Emergency Room, a newly crooked nose, aches, a concussion, and food poisoning.

"Why did that moron EAT the food that was being thrown?" you asked aloud, speaking to Antonio and yourself. "He knew it was gross!"

Antonio merely smiled and shrugged as the two of you took a walk back to your place. "I even told him that it wasn't pesto on the pasta, but he insisted…"

It was about six o'clock, but, after the food fight and that dumb Italian guy that ate the slimy pasta and ended up throwing it back up, neither of you had much of an appetite. The sun was just beginning to set, slowly making its way down to the horizon and painting the sky a peachy-magenta color with wisps of creamy-white where the clouds sat, outlined in a rim of bright light. There was a slight, warm breeze coming from behind you, and it ruffled your hair into your face when it blew a little too strongly.

You inhaled the summery-scented air, exhaling with a wide grin. It was just like old times- you and Antonio strolling down the road to your house during summer vacation. He always used to come over when the two of you were children. You still had the tree house in your backyard, and he still kept all of the birthday presents you made for him, each one sloppier than the last. He insisted that homemade gifts were better than store-bought ones any day, and you were the only amigo/amiga of his that ever took that to heart.

"Do you remember the nights we used to spend in your tree house, _?" Antonio asked, breaking the comfortable silence with a quiet chuckle. He glanced at you with a grin, continuing. "We'd open up the roof when your parents had gone to sleep and fall asleep staring at the stars through the tree branches. You remember that, right?"

You looked at him with a warm smile. "Of course I do." You let your head fall back in light laughter. "How could I not?" you asked your Spanish friend with a partial look of disbelief.

He grabbed your hand in his, the warmth that radiated off of his skin making your hand feel all tingly. "I… I dunno." He shrugged. "I guess I thought you might have forgotten and… that'd make me really… triste…"

He looked away with a tinge of pink on his cheeks, not wanting to see your reaction. "It'd make me sad, too, though…!" you said, trying to look at the face he kept hiding from you. "It really would. Those kinds of memories are really important to me, too, Antonio…"

He finally brought his eyes up to meet yours, streaks of the retreating sun visible in them. "Okay…"

You stopped, taking your hand out of his and grabbing his cheeks. Talking like you would to a new puppy, you simultaneously pouted and cooed, "Now shuuush… Stop that or I will have to use my secret weapon…"

His sparkling eyes searched yours with curious amusement.

"No…? Okay, then." You shrugged, opening your arms wide and chanting, "Fusososososososo~! Fusososososososo~!"

He instantly burst into laughter, the sound making you grin. "That was…" he paused here for a quick breath, "perfecto, _."

"Thank you, thank you," you said dramatically with a small bow, the two of you reaching your house. "Hey," you said as your fingers touched the doorknob, "you wanna relive some memories and sleep in the tree house? I know my parents won't care."

"Si! I think that would be muy divertido!"

"Cool." Out to the back yard you went, taking Antonio with you. The sun had just sunken behind the mountains, allowing the stars to begin peeking out from behind the blanket of light and into the darkening sky.

"Summer is the best," Antonio said with a grin and a contented sigh as you two sat down on the mats in the tree house.

"Yep," you agreed, unlatching the lock on the roof and pushing the sides away. "There…"

You and Antonio laid down simultaneously, your heads almost knocking together.

"As relaxing as this may be, I'm still wired…" you complained to yourself, twiddling your fingers to give yourself something to do.

"Would you like me to help?" Antonio offered, tilting his head to look at you.

"Well…"

"Ah, come on! I want to, _!" He looked at you pleadingly, his big puppy eyes irresistible.

"Fine…"

"Hm… Oh, I have a good idea! How does counting sheep sound?"

You looked blankly at him. "Really…?"

"Don't let it fool ya! It works!"

"Sure, sure. That's fine by me." Anything sounded good at this point.

"Have you ever done it?"

You looked back at him, a light breeze ruffling his dark hair. "N…Not really, no."

"Hm. Well, this'll be fun, then! Ready?"

You found your comfy spot on the mat, laying your arms behind your head. "Yep."

"Okay! Una oveja! Dos ovejas! Tres ovejas! Cuatro ovejas! Cinco ovejas! Seis ovejas! Siete ovejas! Ocho ovejas! Nueve ovejas! Diez ovejas! How's that? Sleeping ye-" He glanced over at you to find you glancing at him.

"… Yes?"

His smile faltered only for a second before answering, "I guess diez wasn't enough! Don't worry. We'll have you asleep in no time."

"Okay," you replied, trusting him and sighing deeply, the warm air rushing in and out of your lungs.

"Once ovejas. Doce ovejas. Trese ovejas. Catorce ovejas. Quince ovejas. Dieciséis ovejas. Diecisiete ovejas. Dieciocho ovejas. Diecinueve ovejas. Viente ovejas."

You yawned, the sky continually growing darker and darker, the temperature starting to drop and stars dotting the sky like a peg board.

"Heyhey! You wanna help me count?" Antonio joked, looking at you with a childish grin.

"Not…really." You watched him laugh and scoot backwards so that his back was up against the side of the tree house, his legs making a loose A shape and his arms sitting nicely on his bare knees. "Unless you're wanting to fall asleep, too."

He waved your offer away. "Nah. I was just playin'. Want me to keep going?"

You gave him a shrug, so he took that and kept on counting those sheep, a bit quieter and softer this time, but the Rs still rolling off his tongue.

"Vientiún ovejas. Vientidós ovejas. Veintitrés ovejas. Veinticuatro ovejas. Veinticinco ovejas. Veintiséis ovejas. Veintisiete ovejas. Veintiocho ovejas. Veintinueve ovejas. Treinta ovejas."

He paused, looked at you, then looked back away.

"What…?" you inquired, noting his unusual behavior. "Is this too boring and/or are you feeling awkward counting for me like this…?" You sat up so that you could at least be kind of eye level with him.

"Eh?" His eyes widened. "Que? No, no, no, mi amigo/amiga! I am simply… don't laugh… Tengo hambre…" He averted his eyes bashfully, putting a hand on his stomach.

"…You…" All you could do was stare at him before bursting out laughing. "You're just hungry? Why so serious, Antonio?"

"Well… Eating is a serious matter, _. Do you… Do you possibly have some churros? Man, I could go for some churros right now…" His eyes shut in imaginable bliss as the thoughts of the sweet treats overwhelmed him.

"I don't think so… Sorry. We can make some tomorrow or you can just bring some over the next time you come," you suggested, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Si… You're right, though. The ones from my house…" he trailed off, looking at you and then cracking up. "They're so much better."

"Yeah, yeah," you grumbled, lightly punching him in the arm.

"Oh, lo siento! I didn't mean to get so off-track! Back to counting the ovejas, si?" A quick nod from you and he was off again, his calm voice relaxing your entire body and mind.

"Triente y una ovejas… Triente y dos ovejas… Triente y tres ovejas… Triente y cuatro ovejas… Triente y cinco ovejas…" This time, however, he didn't count like he had been. He counted as if he were speaking a lullaby, with you being the wee babe. It was slow and gentle, his words plying into a gentle hypnotic rhythm that soon had your eyelids drooping. As he began to come up to forty sheep, his voiced dropped to a whisper.

"_Triente y seis ovejas... Triente y siete ovejas… Triente y ocho ovejas… Triente y nueve ovejas…Cuarentaaaaa ovejas…_"

"Snnnkk…"

Antonio glanced down at you with raised brows, and with a hand-muffled chuckle, he whispered, "_Nn? Hehe… You fell asleep… Eso me hace feliz…~_" He grinned toothily and moseyed himself down beside you, lifting your head so that it was soon resting on his stomach. In all honesty, it was a wonder the two of you even fit in that tree house any more, but that wasn't important.

"_Sweet dreams, _. Buenos noches…~_"

And with that, he too was fast asleep, his fluffy-haired head resting lightly on yours.


	4. Austria the Frugal

**::Austria::**

You stopped dead in your tracks, whipping your head around.

_That sound... It's so familiar... _

A gasp escaped your lips.

_Could it be? YES! It has to be!_

Your legs broke out into a full sprint, your overstuffed backpack and the steep cobblestone path making it difficult to breathe. Up and up you went, rushing past small village houses with shrubbery and vines that crept up the sides and sprouted fresh spring flowers of every color. The air was crisp and clean, the sun warming your sweaty, excited face.

A large - actually huge - house came into view at the peak of the hill, the sight of it making you yell out with a wide smile. The sound was coming from downstairs, seeing as the drawing room window was left open. Everything looked the same as it had been the last time you visited – neatly trimmed hedges and lawn, all a healthy green with no weeds; recently painted house front the same pale yellow, like diluted sunlight.

Your exhausted legs carried you up to the front door where you didn't even bother to knock; it's not like you were a stranger. You silently eased the large oak door open, tip-toeing onto the hardwood floor of the main hall. Pausing to listen, you sighed in relief to know that he hadn't heard you come in, so you made sure it wouldn't happen when you shut the door now; not when you were this close.

Wiping your brow and puffing a loose tuft of hair from your face, you snuck your way down the hall and crept up to the doorway where the sound was at its loudest, the sweet melody creating a gentle smile on your lips.

His back was turned as he played, his fingers flowing over the keys like water. The small curly hair that stuck out from his part danced on his head as his torso moved rhythmically in time with the song and his feet pressed and released the pedals at the base of the piano.

You leaned up against the doorframe, crossing one leg over the other with one foot making a light "tup" as it touched the floor. Your eyelids closed and your arms crossed over your chest, taking in the sweet mixture of notes.

Once the final note was struck, your eyes flickered open to see the aristocrat sighing contentedly and moving to get up.

"That was beautiful, as always," you mumbled.

He spun on his heel, a look of great alarm on his face. "Vhat?! Vhat are you doing in mein house?! Who are you?!"

"Roddy! I'm hurt!" You clutched your chest in fake pain. "How can you not recognize a face like this...?" You gave him the best puppy dog eyes you had.

"No vone calls me Roddy but-" His violet eyes widened behind his glasses. "_?"

"Of course it's me, idiot!" You bounded over, pinning his arms to his sides in a tight hug.

"You look... But how did you...? Und vhen? Und vould you LOOK at how muddy your boots are?! Look at all zhe mud you've tracked in, _!" he fumed, wriggling to escape your grasp.

You released him, slightly irate. "Yeah, nice to see you, too, Roderich. Thanks," you mumbled dryly.

"You made zhis mess; you clean it up! Get zhat mud up before it dries!" he huffed, jabbing his finger at your muddy boot prints.

When he got like this, there was no getting around it, so you kicked your hiking boots off just outside the front door and stomped around until you found the cleaning supplies. Scrubbing on your hands and knees, you glared up at Roderich, who sat, one leg over the other, sipping tea.

As you cleaned away the last bit of mud, you muttered darkly, "I thought guests weren't supposed to do the dirty work, no pun intended... But seeing as the circumstances are what they are, I guess a certain someone isn't getting their _thing_ I picked up just for them."

His eyes flickered up to meet yours for a brief moment. "I hope you aren't talking about _me_, _. You know how I get vhen you try gossiping in front of mein face."

You shot him a look and got up, throwing the dirty towel in the hamper and tromping back into the foyer and sitting down with crossed legs. "No, I _said_ you should treat your guest with a little more respect if you want your gift, you stuck-up jerk."

"You... bought me somesing?" he wondered, his tone softer.

You sighed and nodded, annoyed, and pinched the bridge of your nose. _What about the respect issue?!_

"Can I see it?" Roderich set down his tea with a clink, shifting his weight forward in his seat.

You had to smile a little at his curiosity. "Yeah, sure. I _guess..._" You shuffled over to your pack, digging around until your hands clasped around a small package. "Here." You tossed it to him and chuckled as he flailed in a sad attempt to catch it. Thankfully, it landed in in his lap.

"Vhat is it?" He turned the small package over and over, inspecting it with narrowed eyes.

"Open it and you'll see!"

His skilled fingers delicately tore at the wrapping until, at last, the end was reached. "Is zhis... mein favourite käse?"

"If käse is German for cheese, then yes!" you cheered, watching his face with a grin and patting your knees excitedly.

He looked at you, his expression difficult to pinpoint. "Er... Danke... I suppose."

"You... suppose?" _Why the hesitation?_

"Vell, it _is_ customary for guests to bring gifts, so I should have known you vould bring somesing like zhis. Typical." Watching him get up from the sofa and strut into the kitchen with a dropped jaw made your heart sting.

"I didn't _have_ to, you know! We don't do that where I'm from! I could have been even _more_ typical and not brought you anything, you ungrateful grump!" you shouted, storming after him.

"Ungrateful? Nein. _, if I am anysing, it is subtly grateful for everysing. I simply sought you spent too much. Don't you ever sink?" he asked with a hint of amusement in his fluctuating voice.

"Oh, can it. Aren't you even going to ask why I'm here in the first place?" you grumbled, propping up on his kitchen counter with your elbows.

"Vell, you're going to tell me anyvay, so it doesn't matter vhat mein answer is..."

"Yer darn right I am! Well, I'm on an adventure, Roddy! I left home and I'm just... adventuring my way around the world! It's super fun~ I've been living a nomad's life and it's so cool! I can check out all the back streets and alleys and secret compartments of the world that tour guides never show you and it's _amazing _the stuff I've seen! I've been staying in hostels for the most part, and when I was working my way through Austria, I figured I'd drop by to see my old friend, Mr. Roderich Edelstein," you finished with a contented exhale and a smile, looking up warmly at him.

"Is zhat so? Vell, I sink it vould be alright to say I'm happy to see you."

* * *

><p>You had to laugh at the sight of the stuffy Austrian delicately dabbing at the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief throughout the duration of the dinner he had so... <em>willingly<em> invited you to attend. As you gobbled down your plate, he sat there all prim and proper, taking mouse-sized nibbles and hardly saying a word.

"You know, I was-"

"It's horribly _rude_ to talk vis your mous full, _."

You rolled your eyes at him, swallowing that bite before continuing. "I was _wondering_- Since we're in Austria and I'm seeing the sights, I'd love to see the Alps. You should come with me! It'd be a lot more fun than being alone (not that he's the best of company, but...)! Whatdya say?"

He shook his head. "Nein. It's far too expensive. If you're making your vay across Europe in _hostels_, zhen you can't have much money on you, am I richtig?" he questioned, knowing the answer, but asking anyway to prove a point.

You paused mid-bite, shifting your gaze down to your plate.

"As I sought. I simply don't sink it vould be vise."

"Man, why do you always have to be right...?" you pouted, toying with your food.

He shrugged, finishing his own plate. "Come now… If you're done, please put your dirtied dishes in zhe kitchen und I vill clean zhem."

"Still think it would be fun..." You gathered your plate and silverware, shuffling into the kitchen with a yawn.

"Oh? Are you tired from a long day's trek?" Roderich asked gently, taking your dishes.

"Mhm... Can I stay the night?" you asked, knowing it would likely offend him since it was a pretty rude thing to ask in someone else's house.

"Eh? I..." He looked around, his dark brows furrowed. "But zhe guest room hasn't been prepared."

"Come onnnn, Rod. Take a look at me. You think I care about it? As long as I'm _clean_ you shouldn't worry!" you argued, one hand on hip.

"Vell..."

"And it's just for one night, I promise."

He studied your face for any hint that you were lying, but found none. "Ja, fine. You can stay..." he sighed exasperatedly, turning to wash the dishes. "Zhe vashroom is upstairs."

"Ahhh, thanks~" You gave him a quick hug from behind before trotting off to take a bath.

* * *

><p>Running your fingers through your clean hair, you smiled sleepily, carrying your bundle of clothes back downstairs. "Roddy? Where am I supposed to sleep?" you called out into the now dimly lit house.<p>

"First door on your right."

"Mm, okay... Hey, Roderich?"

His sigh echoed in the empty hall before he slowly answered, "...Ja...?"

"Do you seriously have pianos in every room?"

Down the hall he came, the clacking of his pointy shoes on the floor getting louder with each step. "I do not. Did you see vone in zhe vashroom or zhe kitchen? Nein."

"Just saying... How many do you have? Ten?" you joked.

"It's late. Get some sleep," he muttered, opening your bedroom door for you, his voice flat and unamued.

"Oh, _thanks_." You moseyed in, tossed your dirty clothes on the floor, and flopped onto the bed, just lying there, sprawled out in your pajamas.

"Oh... Vould you mind getting under zhe covers or do you need mein help vis zhat as vell?" he asked sarcastically, stepping over to one side of the bed and removing the pillows that were strictly for decoration, something you never really understood.

"I got it..." Though you said that, he still lifted the comforter up so you could crawl underneath it and then tucked you in.

"Shall I play somesing soozhing for you to drift off to?" he offered, pulling out the bench for the grand piano by the bed.

"Huh...? I guess... but counting sheep has always worked for me," you answered, pulling the sheet below your chin so you could speak without being muffled.

He dropped his hands, twisting around on the bench. "You don't vant to hear me play? Fine. I'll count zhe sheep if zhat makes you feel better. I shall begin now!" he huffed.

"Ein Schaf. Zwei Schafe. Drei Schafe. Vier Schafe. Fünf Schafe. Sechs Schafe. Sieben Schafe. Acht Schafe. Neun Schafe. Zehn Scafe," he spat out, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling.

"U-Uh... That was... a little terrifying..." You looked back and forth, avoiding his harsh gaze.

"VHAT?! Scary? How vas zhat scary?" he demanded to know, whipping his head around to glare daggers at you.

"Uh... Well, it sounded more like your Austrian Aristocrat Rage counting. How about you just calm down a bit, huh...? I think you're all worked up."

"You said to count for you! Am I not counting correctly?!"

You sighed, shaking your head.

"Vell zhen... I shall try to 'ease up.' Elf Schafe. Zwölf Schafe. Dreizehn Schafe." It now sounded more like... Annoyed Austrian Aristocrat counting, but it was getting better. "Vierzehn Schafe. Fünfzehn Schafe. Sechzehn Schafe. Siebzehn Schafe. Achtzehn Schafe. Neunzehn Schafe. Zwanzig Schafe." He paused a tic, eyeing you expectantly. "How vas zhat? I expect zhat zhere should be nein complaints now!"

Blankly, your eyes searched his, a hint of a frown on your lips.

"Vhy are you making zhat 'I vant to say somesing, but I can't' face?" he asked in monotone irritation.

You mumbled, "It just... It's _better_, but not quite calm enough..."

His brows lifted. "Oh?"

"Why don't you try counting like you would to a child; softly and sweetly?" you offered, tilting your head to watch his thinking face.

Roderich stared back, his eyes flittering around while he thought of ways to fix the problem. "I'll use it in mein own vay, zhen," he concluded, a tight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He flexed his fingers and... played. It was a beautiful, slow, quiet song that must have been Austrian in origin. Then, a minute or two after the playing had begun, he started singing to you.

"Zwanzig ein Schafe~ Zwanzig zwei Schafe~ Zwanzig drei Schafe~ Zwanzig vier Schafe~ Zwanzig fünf Schafe~ Zwanzig sechs Schafe~" It was incredible. In all the years the two of you had known each other, never had he brought out his singing voice for your enjoyment. Never. It was so different from his normal speaking voice. He sounded like... an angel of sorts. "Zwanzig sieben Schafe~ Zwanzig acht Schafe~ Zwanzig neun Schafe~ Dreißig Schafe~" **[2]**

You blinked slowly up at the Austrian, who stopped singing for a moment, but kept playing the piano. He didn't turn around, but softly mumbled, "You're qvite pleasant vhen you're silent."

"Mmmmm, thanks. That's the highest compliment I think I've ever gotten from you, Roddy," you grinned, yawning widely again. "Seems like your lullaby is working, hm?"

His head bobbed up and down, so it was assumed to be taken as a yes, seeing as he continued shortly after, but this set was softer and slowed down. "Dreißig ein Schafe...~ Dreißig zwei Schafe...~ Dreißig drei Schafe...~ Dreißig vier Schafe...~ Dreißig fünf Schafe...~ Dreißig sechs Schafe...~ Dreißig sieben Schafe...~ Dreißig acht Schafe...~ Dreißig neun Schafe...~ Vierzig Schafe...~"

Heavy eyelids soon won you over, but your mind was too busy trying to keep awake. You just wanted to listen to as much of that music as you could; to soak it up like a sponge.

The tempo of the song gradually became slower and slower until it was less than one beat per second. And at this point, Roderich decided it must have been best to whisper it, just like one would in a lullaby.

"_Vierzig ein Schafe...~ Vierzig zwei Schafe...~ Vierzig drei Schafe...~ Vierzig vier Schafe...~ Vierzig fünf Schafe...~ Vierzig sechs Schafe...~ Vierzig sieben Schafe...~ Vierzig acht Schafe...~ Vierzig neun Schafe...~ Fünfzig... Schafe…~"_

He pushed himself out from behind the piano with silent ease and familiarity, taking a spinning step over to face your sleeping body. With one hand behind his back, he bent over you, reaching a hand out to brush some hair from your face.

"_Vell, I sink zhat should be enough for vone day, hm?_"

He brought his arms back to his side and stood, smiling gently at you and removing himself from your bedside, or technically _his_ bedside, since it was his house and all.

"_Gute nacht, _..._" The door was shut and the room pitch black, with the only sound being your breathing.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

**As always, requests are open for characters that haven't been done yet. At the moment, I have this list for who's up next:**

**-Romano**

**-Germany**

**-China**

**-Italy**

**-Prussia**

**They'll be done in that order.**


	5. Germany the Persistent

**::Germany::**

You glanced over at Ludwig, who was silently reading a book before going to sleep. He was sitting straight-backed against the headboard, hands securing the book as his quick eyes scanned the pages. His head never moved and his expression was that of sheer concentration. The glasses on his nose almost slid off once, but he fixed them without skipping a beat.

He was lucky. Unlike you, at the precise moment that he told himself that he needed to fall asleep, he could be found with his eyes shut and breath slowed in less than five minutes.

It wasn't fair. You'd never been a great sleeper- well, you were fine once you actually fell asleep because anyone that even remotely knew you knew that you slept like a rock. The part leading up to that, though, was the challenge. You had tried everything in the past- quiet, calming music with no lyrics; a white noise generator; counting sheep to yourself; a small dose of medicine with Antihistamine in it- but none of it ever seemed to work. You would just end up reading some book that bored you to death and falling asleep with the lights on.

You never had to deal with sharing a bedroom or a bed, since you and your older brother always had separate rooms, so you were never able to get help or listen to someone else's steady breathing. You wondered then if Ludwig's brother had taught him the easiest way to fall asleep in minutes. Being a bother and interrupting him was inevitable, but you had to know.

"Ludwig?" you asked quietly, knowing that the students in the surrounding rooms might be asleep, and you didn't want to wake them up if they were. Having a cool roommate in college could certainly be worth it sometimes.

He looked up, placing a finger where a bookmark should go. "Ja?"

"How do you fall asleep so quickly?"

He blinked, and then a look of confusion showed up on his face. "Vhy do you ask?"

You shifted yourself in the bed, lying on your side and propping yourself up on an elbow so that talking to him would be an easier task. "You know why I'm always so tired in the mornings? It's because I can't ever fall asleep when I want to. I always end up thinking in the dark and then distracting myself and getting myself excited about something stupid."

His eyebrows scrunched up as he thought out loud, "Vell, zhat is indeed a serious problem. How long has zhis been going on?"

"For as long as I can remember, I guess. I'm fine once I fall asleep, I just can't _fall asleep_."

"Hm…" He put the bookmark in its proper place and set the book on his nightstand, deep in thought.

"Did your brother teach you to fall asleep quickly?" you asked before he could reply.

He laughed dryly. "Nein. Mein bruder vas alvays zhe party-goer und vas alvays out vis his friends. Vis no bruder to help _me_ fall asleep, und vis parents zhat vere out on business a lot, I vas forced to make meinself fall asleep, or else I vouldn't be able to vake up for school zhe next morning."

"So what did you do?"

"I… I did a few things, actually. I made sure zhat I ate proper meals at zhe proper time, vis no eating right before bed, exercised regularly, und had all of mein homevork finished before it vas time to sleep. Also, I didn't do sings zhat strained zhe brain right before sleeping, eizher, like playing video games, vatching television, or getting on zhe computer."

"Oh." Those things were so… so obviously healthy. "Were there ever times where you _couldn't_ fall asleep, even after all of that?"

"Mm… Ja, a few times."

"What happened then?"

He blinked again, his eyes looking up as he tried to remember. "I sink I… counted Schaf- zhat's sheep."

"Ah, okay." You shifted again so that you were looking up at the ceiling, and you sighed. _Stupid sheep. That never worked for me…_

"Vas… vas zhat all? You just vanted to know zhat?"

"Mm-hm." You closed your eyes, _willing _yourself to fall asleep.

"I don't sink you're telling zhe trus."

Your eyes snapped back open, flicking over to meet your roomate's serious stare. "What?"

"Novone just _asks_ about not being able to fall asleep. My guess is zhat _you_ can't fall asleep und vanted some advice, vhich I couldn't give. Is zhat right?" He was giving you that You-Know-I'm-Right-Look with his arms folded over his chest.

"I-" You sighed, defeated. "Yeah..."

There was a long moment of silence before Ludwig suggested, "Are you vanting me to count Schaf for you now zhat I told you about it?"

"Umm… Well…" You fidgeted with your hands, looking down at them and mumbling inaudible things to yourself. "_You'retiredandit'donlybeaninconvenienceandIdon'twa nttobotheryoubecausethat'srude…_"

"Speak up! I can't understand zhat pasetic mumbling from all zhe vay over here!"

"Well, sorry! I _said_: You're tired and it'd only be an inconvenience and I don't want to bother you because that's rude. There. Ya happy now?"

"I'll be fine, but danke for zhe concern. Our mission is to make _you_ fall asleep, so zhat's vhat ve'll do." He pushed the blanket off of himself, grunting as he got himself out of bed. Making his way over to yours, he said with a half-amused grin, "Now tuck yourself in; I'm not your nanny."

You pulled the blanket up to your chin, snuggling underneath the warmth of the covers and scooching yourself over to give Ludwig enough room to sit on the edge of the bed. He gently sat down- half facing you, half not- the bed making a light creaking sound under the combined weight.

"All tucked in?"

"Uh-huh." How silly. You felt like you were three years old again, asking a 'grown-up' to read you a bedtime story to help drift into a peaceful slumber. The situation wasn't all that bad, though. I mean, you could've ended up with Ivan as a roommate, and I don't think you'd _ever _be able to fall asleep then… so the situation was pretty mild and Ludwig seemed kind of willing to help you out. It could've been _much_ worse.

Ludwig's voice broke your train of thought by wondering out loud, "Um… Vould it be better if I counted in English or in Deutsch?"

"It doesn't matter, I don't think. Whatever you want to do is fine."

He nodded, confirming his answer. "English it is zhen. Now you must remember zhat I can't help you out like zhis all of zhe time. You have to learn from zhis und soon be able to make yourself fall asleep, ja? I von't bail out on you, of course, but you just need to keep zhat in mind. Here ve go." He took a deep breath, signaling his start. "Vone sheep! Two sheep! Sree sheep! Four sheep! Five sheep! Six sheep! Seven sheep! Eight sheep! Nine sheep! Ten sheep! Ele-"

"Uh, Ludwig? I don't mean to say 'I don't care' and then say something else, but could you count in German? That might actually help," you lied through your teeth, knowing that his loud counting wouldn't help a bit.

He looked slightly taken aback, asking, "Vhat's zhe matter vis English? If zhere's somesing you need to say, zhen say it."

"Nothing's wrong. I just think it'll sound better- you know, a German guy counting in German? That's all." You peered up at him, hoping not to offend him.

"Alright. Elf Schafe! Zwölf Schafe! Dreizehn Schafe! Vierzehn Schafe! Fünfzehn Schafe! Sechzehn Schafe! Siebzhen Schafe! Achtzehn Schafe! Neunzehn Schafe! Zwanzig Schafe!" He looked down, checking to see if your eyelids had begun to droop, but when they hadn't he gave you a frown. "Hm? Vhy aren't you tired yet? Do you even _want_ to go to sleep?"

"Yes, well…"

"I'll say zhis again: If zhere's somesing bozhering you, just tell me."

"Well, here's the deal, okay? Don't get mad, but you're practically shouting." You grinned nervously. "You sound kind of like a drill sergeant and that's not really helpful when trying to fall asleep…"

He turned, his body facing the window behind your bed. The curtain hadn't been completely shut, so a stray beam of moonlight snuck into the room, falling onto Ludwig's face. Each feature- the straight nose, worried and confused eyes, and mouth forming a concentrated line- was lit up, kind of glowing in the pale blue light.

"It's mein… counting style zhat's bozhering you? It's sort of… funny zhat you vould say such a sing, because mein bruder said zhose exact vords vhen I counted for him vonce. I never meant to act like I vas running a drill or anysing, but… Ich verstehe. I now understand zhat I have to count in a vay zhat _vill_ make you fall asleep. No commanding…"

You sighed mentally, feeling a little bad... but at least he understood.

"Shut your eyes. Einundzwanzig Schafe. Zweiundzwanzig Schafe." His voice became considerably quieter, but not to the point of a whisper. He paused after twenty-two sheep, glancing at you to make sure he was doing it right. You gave him a smile and a small nod, encouraging him to continue. He gave a quick smile back, resuming.

"Dreiundzwanzig Schafe. Vierundzwanzig Schafe. Fünfundzwanzig Schafe. Sechsundzwanzig Schafe. Siebenundzwanzig Schafe. Achtundzwanzig Schafe. Neunundzwanzig Schafe. Dreißig Schafe." He shifted himself, making the bed creak once more and fully facing you, noting with a grin, "It looks as zhough you're finally feeling sleepy."

You were indeed. That counting was like a lullaby, allowing your eyelids to open and close as slowly as they pleased, but when they noticed that they were closed for too long, they'd snap back open in an attempt to keep the rest of you awake.

"_You know zhat I vasn't upset vis you about not being able to fall asleep, right?_" he confirmed in a low whisper. "_It's just zhat if you don't get enough sleep, you can't function vell during zhe day. It looked like my mesod vas vorking, so I'll continue._

_Einunddreißig Schafe. Zweiunddreißig Schafe. Dreiunddreißig Schafe. Veirunddreißig Schafe. Fünfunddreißig Schafe… Sechsunddreißig Schafe… Siebenunddreißig Schafe… Achtunddreißig Schafe… Neununddreißig Schafe... Vierzig Schafe... Einundvierzig Schafe... Zweiundvierzig Schafe... Dreiundvierzig Schafe... Fünfundvierzig Schafe… Sechsundvierzig Schafe... Siebenundvierzig Schafe... Achtundvierzig Schafe... Neunundvierzig Schafe... Fünfzig Schafe..._"

Fifty sheep had been counted, each one using their fluffy softness to your advantage and easing you into a deep slumber. You weren't able to respond to Ludwig when he chuckled to himself and said, "_Gute nacht._" He silently got up from the bed, returning to his and flicking off his bedside lamp.

* * *

><p><strong>AN Sorry this one's a bit short and not as elaborate as some of the others. Hope you enjoyed it despite that, though. It's been sitting in the folder for some time now and I forgot about it.**


	6. Italy the Cheerful & Romano the Rebel

**::North & South Italies::**

The invitation had been simply too good to pass up, even though you weren't really sure why you, of all people, had been chosen for the job. That thought buzzed around your skull all day, but besides being good friends with the cooks in charge, the decision didn't make sense. _Ah, well..._ _I guess they have their reasons._

The warm air of the evening was comforting, what with the sea breeze floating past your face and caressing your cheeks as if it wanted to hold you but simply could not, the smells of each and every storefront and home window your passed exciting the gurgles in your stomach and oh! how they nearly made you drool right there on the street .

The house you were headed to was just up ahead, and it was by chance you took a "wrong" turn down a little alley and turned up where you did because you ended up only a few houses away from your destination. A few people meandered through the tight buildings, hurrying to get home in time to eat supper.

At last you came to it-_la Casa di Vargas_, it read. The House of Vargas, just where you wanted to be. The home itself was better and worse looking than the ones one either side of it, judging by its age but how well-kept it was as well. Cracks and ivy created a patterned duet on the walls while pots of shrubs and windowsills full of flowers hugged the corners. With one final glance down the festive street, you let yourself grin and then knocked a few times.

Scuffling could be heard behind the closed door, but it was too muffled to really tell who or what was going on. Suddenly, the door swung open to reveal two faces that showed opposite expressions. "Oh, great. I thought-a we were done with this after-a we went to-a the market..." the frowning one groaned, arms crossed over his chest.

"Fratello, I told-a you earlier!" the peppy one laughed, patting his brother's shoulder. Beckoning you inside, he announced, "Welcome to our home-a! Nonni isn't around-a, so we can-a make whatever we want-a to eat! Come in, come in!"

You gladly accepted and hurried in, leaving your shoes in the entrance hall and following the two brothers to wherever they so chose to lead you, which happened to be the kitchen. There you noticed the bags of fresh produce on the center counter, waiting to be cleaned, cut, and made into something delicious.

"Normally we would-a socialize first, but-a since we're running out of-a time, we thought-"

"_You_ thought-a-"

"That we can do enough-a talking while we eat to make up-a for it! How does that-a sound?" He smiled squintily at you, even if you had no intention of turning down the offer.

"Sounds great! Thanks!" you said back, rolling up your sleeves. Glancing around the kitchen with all its unfamiliar territory, you rubbed your hands together and eagerly looked at the younger Vargas brother. "So, Feliciano... Exactly what can I do?"

"You can-a shut up, for one..." Romano grumbled before his brother could get a word in, earning him a faceful of flour. "Gah!"

"You be-a nice to our guest, Fratello, or-a you don't get to help make-a cena!" Dusting his hands off on his apron, Feliciano shot you a smirk before scampering to the other side of the kitchen to fill a pot with water. "Now-a _you_, on-a the other hand, can-a wash those vegetables!" he instructed, jabbing a flour-covered finger towards the center table, feeling it a little strange to hear your friend speak with such a commanding tone. (Probably imitating Ludwig.)

As you made your way to the other side of the room, you had to excuse yourself past the grump in the corner who scoffed at your nearness and slouched off to another room. You scooped up the bag of veggies and set them near the sink, beginning to remove anything the three of you wouldn't want to eat with warm, soapy water running steadily over your skin.

After a few minutes of work while listening to Feliciano's humming, a strange sound echoed from outside the kitchen, building in progression yet staying in place. The cheerful Italian smiled gently, glancing at you before remarking, "I'm-a sure you'll like-a this. It's-a mio fratello's specialty..." And no sooner had he stopped talking that a pleasant tune rang out from the lungs of an accordion somewhere in the vicinity.

Romano, though hidden from sight, played the piece with ease, buttons and keys making the sounds into music and music into... well, it kept changing- first, something more operatic, then a dance. Taking you completely by surprise, two hands found their way around your waist and spun you away from your work station, taking one of your hands in his at that point.

"Feli?"

"Si~?"

"What are you doing?" you laughed, noticing the smeared flour across the boy's face and hoping the pasta wouldn't get mushy if the two of you left it for too long.

"I'm Italiano, I can't help but dance-a when I hear-a music like-a this! And it's-a no help that _you're-a_ here, isn't that-a right?" He brought you in close to him with a grin and began leading you in a rhythmic pattern across the floor and into the hallway to the sounds of the accordion. Into the living room you went, twisting and bouncing along until you backed up against something hard, cueing the music to cease immediately.

"Watch it!" Romano snapped, yanking the instrument away from you.

You stuttered, your arms falling limp, "But I didn't know you were behi-"

"It..." He hesitated and forced his dark eyes to meet yours. "It doesn't matter now."

An uncomfortable silence followed, but Feliciano saved the moment by grabbing the accordion from his brother and shoving him in your direction. "Romano, you're better at-a making the other stuff than I am, so go help _!"

"And just-a what will-a you be doing if I'm-a stuck with all-a the work?!"

"Not all of it, fratello! You've got _!"

You stood there, hoping you wouldn't meet the angry eyes beside you, but not failing to notice the cheeky grin from across the room. Eyeing your friend a little suspiciously, you mused, "Yeah, what will you be doing, Feli?"

He waggled his brows at the two of you and ushered you down the hall and back to where work still needed to be done. "Providing a lively atmosphere~" he chuckled, spinning on his heel to play the accordion in his own way.

Romano's dark eyes did just about everything they could to avoid your curious gaze, but the rest of his body, on the other hand, continued to dance without losing a single step. Slow steps in circular motions carried the two of you down the hallway, the sonorous breath of the accordion's song resonating throughout the whole house to a traditional song of Italy, or so you assumed. At one point you glanced to the side, hoping you would avoid hitting the wall, but the thought disappeared as you were hugged closely, spun out to the side and back again, landing against your friend.

"I've-a got you, you clumsy thing..." he grumbled, looking briefly at you. His face completely changed once he and you danced across the threshold into the kitchen and he barked, "Feliciano, I hardly think-a your music could-a be called 'lively'! I almost fell asleep!"

You were released into the empty space near the sink, head spinning and heart racing. As you returned your attention back to the food, you could hear the two brothers arguing as Romano snatched the accordion back and left the scene once more while Feli slowly made his way back to the boiling pot of pasta, giving it a stir.

"On your-a left!" he warned, coming up beside you with the pot in his hands. Quickly steadying the strainer, you held it as he poured, the steam rising up so that you both had to back away before it burned your faces, laughing a little at it. "Y'know," he began with another quiet chuckle, "Romano seems-a quite testy, but really-"

"He's not," you finished, sharing with him an understanding smile.

Dropping the subject upon hearing footsteps, you set to work bustling about helping make the rest of the dinner, even if you weren't as helpful as you'd have liked to be. Romano, of course, would have preferred that you not help at all, but what could you do when Feliciano insisted and encouraged it? At one point or another you tried to stifle a laugh when Romano snuck a sprig of rosemary down the back of Feli's shirt- "Maybe he'll-a smell better now, mm?"

With rolled-up sleeves and an apron that fit rather well tied around your waist, you shook your head, took a deep breath, and grabbed the rolling pin. _Here we go. Let's not screw this up_, you thought as your knuckles turned white, slowly stretching the soft dough and spreading it out.

"Too thick!" Romano snapped in passing while he took care of the fresh salads, just as you had wiped your elbow across your brow with a triumphant grin. Your smile morphed into a frown as you shot him a look, Feliciano stepping over to help.

With a grin, he told you, "It's-a really not that bad, _. Romano's just picky!"

"Am not-a!"

"Si, you are!"

"Stai zitto!"

There was laughter, accusations and learning, petty squabbles, and delicious fragrances drifting above each part of the kitchen, filling the whole room and likely the whole house as well; and if nothing else there was cooking.

* * *

><p>"Jeeeeez," you sighed, patting your stomach contentedly. "I couldn't eat more if I tried, man. This was incredible. Gotta really hand it to you Italians."<p>

"Mangi, mangi!" Feliciano cooed, gesturing to the massive amounts of food on the table.

"No, really, I-"

A warm roll of bread, already buttered, was tossed into your lap by a disgruntled Romano with a fork halfway to his face."Eat."

Despite being full to the brim, you meant no disrespect so you nibbled at the bread and continued conversing until the boys had had their share and finally understood that if you ate anymore that your untrained stomach would heave all of that hard work up after dinner and no one wants that. A strange compromise of sorts.

As hard as you tried to hide it, a yawn took over your body and both brothers noticed it at the same time. "All those carbs..." you mumbled with a shrug, upending your glass.

"If you're-a tired, then just go-a to sleep," Romano said lazily after sipping his wine.

Feli chirped, "Si, we have-a plenty of room for-a you to stay the night!"

"We don't."

"But-a we do, fratello!"

Feli's whine only earned himself an eye roll and silence as his older brother took another swig of the wine, lightly tinting the corner of his mouth. Returning his attention back to you, the younger boy excused himself from the table and came up behind you, scooting your chair back and allowing you to get up. "Come, I'll-a show you where you can-a sleep."

* * *

><p>Tucked into the bed already and beginning to adjust the pillows for maximum comfort, a few knocks came on the door.<p>

"You can come in!"

Romano entered a little slowly, making his way over to a chair and sitting down backwards with his legs straddling the back and his arms folded so that his head could rest on his knuckles, curved around the top piece of wood. He blinked once, then twice, then looked at you with a blank stare for a moment.

"Fratello? Frateeeeeello!" a loud but distant Feliciano called, clearly in search for his brother.

"He's in..." you began to answer, stopping only when Romano held up a finger to his pursed lips, silencing you in one motion with his brow furrowed. However, the endeavor was lost when the younger brother bounded up the stairs and caught sight of Romano.

"Aha! Found you!" His cheery tone suddenly switched in the blink of an eye as he stomped over to his brother and grabbed him by the arm. "Fratello," he hissed, crouching low, "You had-a too much to drink-a tonight, so you shouldn't be in-a here...!" In an effort to remove his (only slightly) drunken brother from the room, he ended up pulling too hard and once Romano gave up the struggle he went limp, causing one to stumble backwards and the other to topple over onto the floor. The chair fell against the side of the bed.

"Romano!"

You whipped off the sheets and had one foot on the ground when Feliciano caught your eye and shook his head. "Don't-a worry. I've got him."

Sitting anxiously on the side of the bed, you watched the boy drag his brother out of the room with a few grunts, eventually leaving your sight. You sighed and wondered what that was all about, deciding to try and get some sleep, as hard as that might prove to be.

As you nestled back down under the covers and went to reach for the lamp, Feliciano entered the room once more.

"Scusate to barge in again, but I just-a wanted to check on you. Huh? Are you okay?" he questioned worriedly, quickly coming up to the bedside.

You nodded, shrugging. "I just can't sleep is all. Having a hard time after that, even though I'm exhausted from today."

"Si, I can understand that. It's-a tough on the body, too, you know. I had trouble-a sleeping not too long ago, too. I was-a having trouble sleeping-a during my siesta, but mio fratello counted sheep..." he trailed off, suddenly looking as if he had gained a bright idea. "That's it! Did-a you know that if you count-a sheep when you can't-a sleep, you'll fall asleep in a few moments? I can-a count sheep for you! Would you like-a that?"

"Well, I don't really-"

He shook his head again and giggled, saying, "No need-a to be shy! I'll-a count for you, so close your eyes now. Here I go! Una pecora! Due pecore! Tre pecore! Quattro pecore! Cinque pecore! Sei pecore! Sette pecore! Otto pecore! Nove pecore e dieci pecore!" Without glancing at you but rather letting his gaze drift off, Feli continued with, "Sheep are-a so fluffy and adorable... Not only are-a they cute, but the cheese made-a from sheep's milk is-a delicioso! You usually use goat-a cheese when making the pasta sauce for Carbonara, but if-a you use sheep cheese it still tastes-a great." Suddenly remembering that you were there, he grinned and offered, "If-a you haven't eaten it like-a that before, do you wanna eat some with-a me sometime?"

Not really getting where that came from, you nodded, albeit still confused. "Uh, sure. That'd be nice."

His grin widened as he exclaimed, "Meravigliso! I can't wai- Oh, I'm-a sorry! I'm-a supposed to be counting sheep! Undici pecore! Dodici pecore! Tredici pecore! Quattrodici pecore! Quindici pecore! Sedici pecore! Diciassette pecore! Diciotto pecore! Diciannove pecore! Venti pecore!"

You yawned once more, the sheep idea only working slightly. However, Feliciano took the sign as more than you thought it to be. "Oh, you're-a starting to feel sleepy? This is-a more effective than I thought-a! Ludwig taught-a me this, but I've-a never tried it on anyone else before..."

_Ludwig suddenly came up?_ "I can only imagine him trying to count you to sleep," you muttered shuddering a little. "Spill it, Feli. Is it a little scary, then?"

"Hm?" It appeared as though he had been drifting again. "Does-a Ludwig make me uneasy? Well-a, he may be a bit on-a the strict and-a brawny side, but-a he always helps me, he only adds a little bit of salt-a in everything he eats, he keeps his kitchen all clean and sparkly, and-a he always ties my bootlaces when I forget! He's a serious and-a nice guy at the same-a time! Just-a the other day I..." He caught your eye again and smiled bashfully. "Ah, looks like I was-a talking a bit too much... You looked-a like you were having fun listening so I got caught up. We can't have-a you staying awake, though! Time for the sheep!

"Ventuno pecore. Ventidue pecore. Ventitré pecore." At this point he wasn't as hyper as he had been, the carbs finally beginning to calm him down as well. "Ventiquattro pecore. Venticinque pecore. Ventisei pecore. Ventisette pecore. Ventotto pecore. Ventinove pecore. Trenta pecoreeee… ve… "

His head bobbed a little as his eyes began to droop, the tired sigh escaping through Feliciano's smile. "Hey... Feli?" you whispered, giving his arm a poke.

"Oh...oh! Looks like I got caught-a napping!" he laughed, squinting at the lamplight. He continued, "Whenever I count-a sheep, it always works on-a me, too. But I promise that I'll-a count my hardest until you're-a sound asleep!"

Scoffing and scrunching your brows at him, you said, "Feli, why don't you just go to sleep, then? I'll be fine, come on."

Your efforts were in vain as he rested a warm hand on your head, muttering, "It's al-aright, leave it to me...! Just close-a your eyes, take a nice, deep breath, and listen to my sheep-a counting." You took his advice as his voice softened to a gentle whisper, the words as smooth as fresh pasta.

_"Trentuno pecore... Trentadue pecore... Trentatre pecore... Trentaquattro pecore... Trentacinque pecore... Trentasei pecore... Trentasette pecore... Trentotto pecore... Trentanove pecore... Quaranta pecore... __Quarantuno pecore... Quarantadue pecore... Quarantatre pecore… Quarantaquattro pecore... Quarantacinque pecore... Quarantasie pecore... Quarantasei pecore... Quarantasette pecore... Quarantotto pecore... Quarantanove pecore... __Cinquanta pecore..." _He sighed, his eyes drooping once more._ "Cinquantuno pecore..."_

The treatment had worked only halfway, but you didn't want Feli to fall asleep on you so you had faked falling asleep as he counted, stopping him at 51 sheep by letting out a little snore, your mouth hanging open.

Blinking, Feliciano turned his gaze to you. _"Hmm? Heey."_ He poked your cheek, and it almost did the trick to expose you but thankfully you covered it up by shifting onto your side and mumbling something in your 'slumber'.

_"Looks-a like you're-a sound asleep! I'm glad!"_ He giggled quietly and patted your hair, whispering, _"Have a relaxing sleep and a good-a morning tomorrow. Now then, off I go. Sogni d'oro! Sweet-a dreams!"_ He exited the room silently, flicking out the lights on his way out.

As soon as you heard the door click shut, you rolled onto your back again, sighing in relief. _Now, the real trick... Actually falling asleep..._

Your eyelids had just begun to droop again when a loud yawn came through the doorway, followed by a dark-haired Italian barely managing to stay upright that hummed a familiar tune. Flicking on the lamp beside your bed, you squinted up at him, watching his wobbly steps as he drew nearer. His hair was mussed-up and the corner of his mouth was still stained from the wine, though it appeared as though he had just come from the washroom to ready himself for bed.

_"Romano...?"_

His gaze popped upwards to meet yours, his grimace returning in an instant. "The hell am I-a doing in-a here...? What are-a _you_ doing in-a here?" he snapped, stopping where he was.

"It's where Feli said I should sleep. He never mentioned that it was your room," you grumbled back, shifting in the bed so you could see him better.

"My room-a? It's-a..." Romano's dark eyes flicked around the room, and the curl on his head bounced when he answered, "No, this is-a the guest room. Mine's next door..." He began humming again as he turned and made for the door, giving you a half-wave as he reached for the knob.

_That song..._ "Romano, wait!" He paused mid-step. "Are you humming the song you played on the accordion earlier?" you asked him carefully.

He did nothing for a moment, then nodded once before reaching again for the door.

"Aw man, come on, don't leave yet! I can't sleep!" you whined, leaning out of the bed and reaching for him to come back in the most dramatic way you could.

He sassily turned to face you again, dark bags beginning to form under his eyes. "You can't sleep? Like I care! What the hell do you want me to do...?"

"I dunno, count sheep or just sit here and fall asleep... I don't know!" you pondered, knowing a second dose of sheep would likely do the trick, especially if Romano was falling asleep as he counted.

"Ugh, why sheep? That way is for babies!" he griped, dragging his hand across his frowning face and coming back over to the bedside.

You sighed and gave him the stink-eye, sticking your tongue out to prove that, yes, you were still a baby.

He gaped back. "Wha?"

"Well, you're always such a grump and I never feel welcome here, at least not from you. I try to be cool and help out, but you just cut me off when I've barely had a taste for this place, y'know?" you rambled, not realizing how much you'd been meaning to tell him these things.

"O-Oi!"

"I'm not done! You think just because I'm not from here that I'm stupid and I don't understand and you know what? You're right! I don't understand so help me! I just... I'm just tired..." you finally sighed, resting your head back against the pillow and swallowing hard. _Good luck getting to sleep now, idiot..._

"Alright, alright, I'll-a count the sheep for-a you and then I'm going to my own room." He pulled up the nearby chair and sat in it the same way as before, remarking, "You screech just like my little brother until you get what you want..."With a deep breath, he began. "Una pecora! Due pecore! Tre pecore! Quattro pecore! Cinque pecore! Sei pecore! Sette pecore! Otto pecore! Nove pecore! Dieci pecore! Hah? What are-a you looking at?"

You had been accidentally staring at him while he was speaking, trying to figure out how bitterly one could count fluffy little sheep. His whole face was contorted to a mask of frustration, as if this whole ordeal was a massive chore. "I, uh... Nothing, sorry."

He rolled his eyes and poked you in the forehead. "If you-a really wanna fall asleep that-a bad, then-a put your back into it! I'm-a counting for you because-a you said you could not-a sleep! You know that, right? Now hurry up and close-a your eyes." Resting a beat to let you follow his order, he continued with arms folded across his chest, "Good. Nice and-a tight. I'm-a continuing, damn it. Undici pecore! Dodici pecore! Tredici pecore! Quattrodici pecore! Quindici pecore! Sedici pecore! Diciassette pecore! Diciotto pecore! Diciannove pecore! Venti pecore!"

You caught yourself staring at his grumpy face again when he reached his second set, earing yourself a smack on the top of the head.

"Hey!"

"GO TO-A SLEEP, YOU BASTARDO! I'm-a wasting my precious sleep hours to count-a sheep to you right-a now! Speaking of-a, everyone keeps saying to count-a sheep but-a why does it have-a to be sheep?! What's-a wrong with counting pizza or-a tomatoes instead?!" He paused a moment, thinking to himself and then out loud, ignoring the fact that he had just called you a bastard, and quite loudly. "That's-a right. It's-a not like I have-a to count sheep. Counting sheep does not match me at all. I've-a decided. I'm-a going to count tomatoes instead."

"Tomatoes? Really? I don't think that's the big issue he-"

"You shut up-a! I'll-a count whatever the hell I want!"

Rolling your eyes and rubbing the spot on your head, you muttered, "Fine, as long as you do it quietly..."

"What's-a with you? If you've got a problem, I'm-a not counting jack! Just be quiet and-a listen, you moron," he snapped, glaring at you before clearing his throat. "Ventuno deliziosi pomodori. Ventidue deliziosi pomodori. Ventitre deliziosi pomodori. Ventiquattro deliziosi pomodori. Venticinque deliziosi pomodori. Ventisei deliziosi pomodori." You could tell by this point that your words had sunken into his brain at least a little bit, or maybe it was just the change of subject, because his voice had softened and it seemed that he might even be enjoying himself a little. "Ventisette deliziosi pomodori. Ventotto deliziosi pomodori. Ventinove deliziosi pomodori. Trenta deliziosi pomodori."

When he looked down at you expectantly, you grinned slowly. Before you could say anything, he remarked, "Ahh, now you're-a finally getting sleepy, huh, you little sob! This is-a... embarrassing so hurry up and-a fall asleep, and-a forget this ever happened, moron!" He paused again and mused, "Still-a, this tomato counting seems to be-a more effective than sheep counting. Figures an idea I came up with would-a work."

You raised your brow at him.

"Anything I think up is-a gold compared to what others think up and-a you know it! Tomatoes really are-a delicious. Ahh, now I feel like eating a pizza," he sighed blissfully, lost in his food thoughts.

"So why don't you?" you teased, chuckling drowsily.

He stared at you, taking you seriously. "Hah? I can't eat-a one now! I have-a to put you to sleep-a first. Now stop-a the talking and-a go to sleep! I'll-a be sure to knock you out with this round," he vowed, smiling a little. _"And-a here we go... Trentuno deliziosi pomodori... __Trentadue deliziosi pomodori... Trentatre deliziosi pomodori... Trentaquattro deliziosi pomodori... Trentacinque deliziosi pomodori... Trentasei deliziosi pomodori… Trentasette deliziosi pomodori… Trentotto deliziosi pomodori… Trentanove deliziosi pomodori… Quaranta deliziosi pomodori… Quarantuno deliziosi pomodori… Quarantadue deliziosi pomodori… Quarantatre deliziosi pomodori… Quarantaquattro deliziosi pomodori… Quarantacinque deliziosi pomodori… Quarantasei deliziosi pomodori… Quarantasette deliziosi pomodori… Quarantotto deliziosi pomodori… Quarantanove deliziosi pomodoriiiiiii… Cinquanta deliziosi pomodori."_

Romano glanced down at you with a yawn and a frown, pulling the covers up over your shoulders. _"Hmph, sound asleep! Damn, you were a handful to deal-a with...!" _He sighed and rested his chin in his hand,_ "Well, that-a was embarrassing. This has to be the, uh... let's see..." _he mused as he counted on his fingers,_ "about the 200th time I've-a dealt with something embarrassing since I was-a born. There was that one time I wet the bed, that time I... and-a how was I supposed-a to know there was an old man behind-a me?!"_

Hearing you let out half a snore told him it was time to leave. Scooting himself off the back of the chair, he gave your hair a ruffle and turned to return to his own room. _"You worked me hard today- che palle... Even-a so, Buona Notte..."_

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

**Wow. Long one because it's got two characters. Didn't feel like doing them separately and figured I could make it work somehow. I've kind of missed these little things. As always, if something is incorrect, don't hesitate to let me know!**


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